Art of Persuasion
by KaydenceRei
Summary: Natasha's art of persuasion is actually a gift; a gift that comes with a price. It also seems that being a human with no suit of armor, super serum, Godly powers or a meaner greener half was becoming a bit of a delicacy within The Avengers. The secrets of one spy might be more than any of them expects. (AU. Well, slightly. Follows the movies up until after CA: WS. AU from there.)
1. Chapter 1

This story has been a long time idea in progress that I've had an outline for but only just now put into words. Keep in mind that while this chapter doesn't have any Mature content that there is an M rating on this story for later chapters. That being said I hope you enjoy my newest feature.

 **The Art of Persuasion** :

 _Persuasion; noun  
'the act of influencing people to do or believe something'_

It wasn't that Natasha disliked Bruce Banner, she actually found him remarkably intelligent and rather amusing in a dorky and slightly oblivious sense, though she wasn't one to show or give voice to that opinion. That also wasn't to say that she liked him either because the simple fact was: she didn't. She held him in the same regard that she held almost everybody that she had met in her life, with no real care one way or the other and that was the way she preferred it. Her opinion on his inner beast was something else entirely; he was useful in the sense that he could tear through anything and everything in his path but that path could very well include his teammates, something of which she was reminded of in this very moment. The small backwater town in Siberia was abandoned after a HYDRA facility nearby went up in flames and smoke, and while Tony's plan had been to test his new Hulk Buster armor, that plan went up in smoke with the lab. It turned out Veronica just wasn't ready for the first field test when she had a 'Failure to launch', as Tony had so pleasantly informed them.

She kept her distance, watching as the green beast sent Steve careening through the air like he was merely swatting a fly. Steve would be fine, although she imagined that super serum or no, that probably hurt like hell. She slowly and methodically crept her way around behind them all and thus far not even the other Avengers seemed to have noticed her movements. Tony was the next to get tossed aside like a rag doll, Iron Man suit clanking across rocks and dirt on the ground and then The Hulk was turning on Clint.

This was a terrible time for Thor to be off planet because he was the heavy hitter that they needed to beat The Big Guy senseless until he ran out of fight. This was why she, and even Bruce, tried to disagree with the idea of letting The Hulk enter the fray. There was just no talking Tony Stark out of anything potentially harmful and deadly though because the man just seemed to thrive on carnage, chaos and disaster, and he was one of the few people she had a _unique_ distaste before the team assembled because of that very fact.

Fortunately Clint wasn't foolish enough to think that he could go head to head with The Hulk and he kept a distance as Natasha silently and flawlessly got closer to Bruce's beast without him catching sight or scent of her and though that might change if the wind shifted direction, for now she was safe. Every step, every breath...even every thought she held in her head was meticulous, at least that's what Clint always told her and she supposed it was fairly accurate. It wasn't that she was fearless; everyone in their right mind feared The Hulk. She was merely someone who knew how to hide that fear and right now she had it buried as far down as she could manage.

She wasn't stalking the beast with any weapons in hand, though she hardly needed an actual weapon; Natasha knew she _was_ a weapon all on her own. Moments like these were exactly what Red Room and the KGB had created her for; well...perhaps not this exact moment. She was sure they never accounted for Hulks. Still, her body was a weapon, her touch was a weapon and even her mind was a weapon. There wasn't a stone that her creators left unturned when they made her into the deadly killer that she was.

There wasn't much time to think on that any longer though because The Hulk let out a battle cry and made a motion to lunge towards Clint. She wasn't ready, not yet, but that wasn't something she could allow to happen.

"Hey, Big Guy!" Natasha called out quickly. She had needed him at somewhat of a distance and looking right at her if this was going to work like she hoped. Last time she hadn't had enough distance to fully effect him on the Helicarrier when he had nearly turned her into a smear on the wall, though she had managed to give him pause enough for Thor to take him off her hands. Now he whirled around in an instant, snarling at her before his large feet trampled the ground beneath him to take him barreling in her direction rather than Clint's. She took a deep and calming breath, keeping her eyes on him and holding her hand out, palm towards him.

The ground shook with each step he took. She had the uncanny ability to disarm anyone just by looking at them long enough and it wasn't exactly the only ability she had hidden in her arsenal. The thing was, she wasn't sure how well it was going to work on the giant green rage monster that was rearing ever closer. The calmness she attempted to continue to exude was beginning to diminish and it seemed he was no less intent on smashing her. Holding her ground was something she nearly wanted to squirm at. Fortunately she didn't need to start squirming because he came to a sudden stop, bare green feet skidding across the dirt and kicking up dust all around them.

By the time that the dust all settled and Natasha could see through the sheet of dirt, she found The Hulk standing just in front of her, staring at her hand with his snarling and enraged face. "Sun's getting _real_ low," she told him, noting the orangish-red hues of the sky around them. She watched as he huffed out a large and gruff breath before he looked up at the sky. The reality was that she just needed to get him to hear her voice, hear the calm, and so she took words that made sense at that exact moment, words that he would be able to understand the meaning behind while hearing the calm tone of her voice.

Finally he looked back down at her with bitter uncertainty.

The silence of the rest of the team was deafening and though she could hear Steve and Tony moving quietly closer to them, they were at least making attempts not to startle the Big Guy now that she had his attention without having been pulverized for having it. She would never dare take her eyes off of the giant and angry brown eyes of The Hulk, she knew better than that. To look anywhere else right now would be the end of everything and their stare down lasted several long and painstakingly fearful minutes. Finally his hand raised up until his palm hovered just in front of her own. She was actually a little impressed with the fact this was working, but it was also draining and daunting on her, and this wasn't even the hard part; the hard part was coming up next.

Natasha moved her hand under his, still leaving that thin veil of air between his giant hand and her own small one as she waited for the calm to further encourage him. Finally he flipped his own hand over, palm up into her awaiting hand and there it was...the moment of truth.

The power of persuasion was her true specialty but given that she hadn't charged her powers in years she knew this was going to do a number on her. She released the tiniest of breaths before she slowly moved her hand from beneath his hand and to his arm, watching his eyes follow her fingertips as they trailed a slow and delicate path downwards. The warmth that flowed from her fingertips left a glow the same color as the sunset on his arm and his eyes shifted to look into her own.

It was only when the warmth of her fingertips finally met his that he suddenly jerked back and away from her. Given that she felt dizzy and drained, she feared for just a moment that she had failed. He released a snarl and a groan as he continued to backstep away from her before his hands went to either side of his head.

Natasha saw Clint move towards her within seconds, placing a steadying hand on her arm when she swayed in place almost imperceptibly. "Nat...did you just do what I think you did?" he whispered and she could feel him studying her intently. She looked into his grayish-blue eyes with her own, and using his eyes as a mirror, she watched as the vibrantly verdant shade of her eyes faded to their normal green.

"Yes..." she answered him with sigh, taking a few shaky breaths to get herself back to normal.

"You never should have done that...what if he remembers?" Clint questioned with clear worry etching his voice. The team didn't know her secret. The truth was that only him and Fury held the knowledge of what she was capable of. "How are you going to explain this to the others?" he asked next.

She gave the barest semblance of a shrug, "If he remembers then I'll tell him the truth, as for Stark and Rogers, there's nothing to say. It was dumb luck."

Clint graced her with a sardonic expression at her words, "Yeah, I'm sure that answer is going to go over real well." He released a worried little sigh and she saw the weary look he was giving her, "How much did that take out of you?"

"I could use a nap..."

"What the hell just happened?" Tony questioned as he arrived beside them, "how did beauty here tame the beast without so much as budging?"

"Dumb luck," Clint offered up with a shrug.

Tony was quirking an eyebrow up beneath his mask, though she couldn't actually see it, she knew he was doing it. He raised the mask up and sure enough there was his raised eyebrow staring back at herself and Clint, "Yeah, sure, and I'm wearing Captain America patterned panties."

She kept her expression neutral and the retort came from her lips in an equally deadpan manner, "And here I thought I was the only one."

The corner of the billionaire's mouth turned upward into a smirk in an instant as he shook his head. "For that witty comeback I'm going to let you keep your little secret to yourselves—for now," he informed them before he tapped metal fingers to his shell of a head, "I just want you to know that _I_ know—that little lullaby you pulled off there wasn't normal."

Natasha watched as Tony headed over to where Bruce Banner was currently writhing around half-naked on the ground, only a shredded pair of dirty brown pants keeping his dignity from being lost to the rest of the team. She released a sigh and ran her fingertips through her hair.

"That looks incredibly painful and uncomfortable for the good Doctor there," Clint mumbled out.

Steve's voice rang out behind them, "Well, I know a thing or two about how much your body rapidly changing hurts...and it's not pleasant."

She watched the warning look that Clint gave her and she gave him a look of her own that told him to keep Steve occupied.

Slowly she took steps towards Tony and Bruce and the billionaire had a not-so-comforting hand on the scientist's writhing form. It was Bruce's pained voice that rang clear in her ears, "Please tell me that I didn't just kill her..."

"You didn't," Tony assured him.

Natasha crouched down on the opposite side of Bruce so that he could see her, her expression still the flawless air of indifference. "I'm perfectly fine," she assured him, placing a hand on his forearm, "and so are you." She could see Tony's eyes narrow as he watched her, then she saw his eyes widen in surprise. She could see that verdant shade return to her eyes through Bruce's eyes and that same sunset glow formed over Bruce's arm, "You can relax, Doctor. Everyone is fine, you're fine." He was staring back at her, their eyes locked onto one another, and slowly but surely he stopped writhing in pain. "There you go, just go to sleep," she told him next, "sleep will help."

The scientist's eyes fluttered shut like they weighed a ton and she lowered her hand from Bruce's arm to the ground to steady herself when she wavered in her crouching position. Tony's words made her remember to take a deep breath, "Holy shit, Romanoff." The pain behind her eyes was throbbing and she took yet another breath and blinked her eyes a few times before she got to her feet. If Tony noticed how unsteady she was then he was being nice enough not to mention it. "You might want to hold off turning around if you want those fancy eyes of yours to stay hidden," he warned her. She shook her head at that and blinked her eyes a few more times when the billionaire gave a little head nod, "All back to their normal intense glory."

"Not asking any questions?" she asked as she raised an eyebrow up at him inquisitively.

"Not yet," Tony told her with a little shrug. "Whatever the hell you've got going on, at least it's useful," he told her, "but the middle of Siberia isn't really the place to be playing twenty questions so I'll wait until we get back to the Tower."

Natasha supposed that was fair enough, "Duly noted." Tony might be a Grade-A ass but at least he knew the right and wrong time for a conversation. She supposed she could take him off of her shit list and add him to the 'I don't give a crap one way or the other' list with most of the rest of the world. "And I might give you an answer or two," she decided, "since you're being uncharacteristically calm and nice about this."

"Well, how sweet of you," Tony replied with a roll of his eyes before hauling Bruce over his shoulder, "and if you look at his barely covered bottom, I'll tell."

He _almost_ succeeded in making her laugh but she held it in as she gave him a sardonic little retort without actually changing her expression, "I'll do my best to try and contain myself."

Tony bit out a laugh, "Yeah, because you're absolutely terrible at that."

That actually did make her smirk a little as she followed behind him, though she certainly wasn't looking forward to playing the question and answers game that would follow upon their return. She supposed she could give _some_ detail without explaining the full extent of her 'enhancements'.

They met up with Steve and Clint at the quinjet and immediately the supersoldier asked his question, "So...anybody want to explain how all that worked?"

"Dumb luck," Tony answered without batting an eye, "guess even a giant green rage monster likes the way Romanoff looks too much to muck up her face."

"Hilarious..." Steve muttered.

Natasha watched Steve and Tony go inside the quinjet and then Clint's voice rang out beside her, "Guess Stark isn't such a douche."

She tilted her head to the side a little in acknowledgment, "I've noticed."

"You feel okay?" Clint asked her.

"The nap idea still sounds nice," she admitted with a shrug.

She could see Clint's frown out of the corner of her eye, "You never should have done that, Nat, either time."

Natasha gave another shrug in response, "It was necessary."

"The first time with The Hulk maybe, and I definitely appreciate the save, but not the second time with Banner," he reminded her, "that was just reckless."

She decided to deny that, "And here I just thought it was good manners."

"This isn't funny, Nat."

She ignored him as she stepped onto the quinjet and took her seat. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. The nap definitely needed to happen.

* * *

"Nat."

Natasha blinked her eyes open in a bit of a haze, glancing around as everything slowly came into focus. The pressure on her shoulder brought her back into complete awareness and she blinked several more times before she looked at Clint.

"Hey, you good?"

"I feel like I have a bad case of cotton mouth, did I smoke something I don't remember lighting up?" she quipped.

It was enough to make her partner roll his eyes and chuckle, "No but you did just sleep for the entire ten hour trip back without so much as unfolding your arms or twitching."

No wonder she needed felt a desperate need to use the bathroom, "Guess that explains why I have to pee so badly."

"Too much information, Nat," Clint told her with another roll of his eyes.

She gave him a playful pat on the cheek, "Aren't you just thrilled I decided to like you all those years ago?"

Now he grinned, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Clint was the rare person she actually let herself be less closed off in front of. It was something she knew he appreciated and something he also never took for granted. Truthfully, she would have lost herself years ago without him. While she made the occasional unexpected joke to one of the others, Clint was the only one she was _really_ herself with, though she was less withheld with Steve after HYDRA's reintroduction into the world two months back. The man saved her life and that wasn't something she took with a grain of salt. Most people would have left her for dead in that bunker and gotten themselves out, and she couldn't blame them if they did. While she would now, she wasn't sure she would have done the same if their situations had been reversed back in New Jersey and she owed the supersoldier a debt just like she did Clint. She took Clint's hand when he offered it and let him help her up, another show of trust for him that she held with no one else, and then she took a good look around. "Where's everyone else?" she dared to ask.

"Stark and Rogers took Banner to the lab. Pretty sure Stark just wants to keep an eye on him though, it's sort of the first time anybody's gone and uh...persuaded The Hulk to stop smashing. Think he wants to make sure Banner's okay," Clint answered her. Then he opened up the little mini fridge on the quinjet. "Think fast," and the bottle of water was thrown to her.

Natasha snatched it from the air with a tiny shake of her head and a smile, "My reflexes are just fine, thank you very much."

"Just checking."

She twisted off the top as she followed Clint off the quinjet and sipped at the water. He seemed keen to leave well enough alone at least until they were in the elevator. He hit the button for his floor, then hers and then she hit the button for the lab.

"What are you doing?" came the immediate question.

"I owe two geniuses a few answers."

He gave her a rather absurd look as the elevator doors opened to her floor, then closed, "You don't owe them anything. Stark put on a metal suit and chose to be who he is, Steve let scientists inject him with a serum to turn him into a supersoldier, Banner irradiated himself in a lab experiment gone wrong. _You_ didn't choose to be what you are."

She gave a tiny shrug in response, "I may not have done it to myself but I did choose what I did with my particular...abilities. None of _them_ chose to use what they have to kill. You're trying to protect to me and I get it, I do, but it's not like Banner said, 'Hey, today I'm going to blow myself up with gamma rays and become an indestructible green wrecking ball.' He didn't exactly choose this either and I can help him contain it at least a little bit."

"You can't keep it up forever," he reminded her as the door to his floor opened, "it takes too much from you when you don't charge your abilities up."

"I'm aware of that."

"Nat..."

Natasha shook her head as she held the door open for him, "This is the first _good_ thing that I can do, Clint, so I'm going to do it. I'm only going to tell them just enough, not everything."

Clint shook his head just a little, "I still don't like it..."

"It'll be fine, I'll be fine, and you need to go home for a little while," she pointed out.

"Just be careful while I'm gone. You're playing with fire, Nat."

She smirked a little as he stepped off the elevator to pack his things for home. "Story of my life," she murmured as the doors closed between them.

Natasha took a deep breath as the elevator continued to rise and she put her mask of indifference back in place before she reached the lab, well, the main lab out of the twelve floors _filled_ with labs. Tony was nothing if not dedicated to science and tinkering, she'd give him that if she gave him nothing else. She stepped into the lab with that breezy air of neutrality, arms casually swinging at her side, and she edged herself into a sitting position on the corner of a desk as Tony and Bruce talked among themselves without noticing her presence. More amusing was that Jarvis seemingly decided not to announce her presence to the two geniuses, apparently the AI wanted to see them squirm when they noticed her and she enjoyed that Jarvis had a remarkable sense of humor sometimes.

"Did I miss something...how did she do that?" came Bruce's question. He was rubbing at his eyes with exhaustion still clear on his features, especially if his sagging shoulders were any indication.

"Which part?" Tony questioned.

"The part where she made him _me_ again, then made _me_ fall asleep."

Natasha bit back the smirk that tried to emerge as she interrupted them, "Well in my defense, Doctor, I did tell you once that I could persuade you." Tony turned around with a dumbfounded little expression, almost as though he couldn't fathom _how_ she got into his lab, which was particularly idiotic given she was a known spy and assassin. Bruce on the other hand actually jumped a little with surprise at the sudden intrusion and she merely crossed one leg over the other while sipping from her water bottle. She twisted the cap back on it and tilted her head to the side slightly, giving them a wry smile, "I can be _very_ persuasive."

Tony gave her a uniquely perturbed look that didn't usually cross his face before he voiced his thoughts aloud, "Believe me, we noticed."

"How did you do that?" came Bruce's question, "that was...the strangest feeling."

Natasha shrugged slightly, "I'm a bit of a science experiment myself, Doctor. Turns out I'm not exactly what nature intended."

"Because that answers _everything_ ," came Tony's comment accompanied by a roll of his eyes, "how about we do this without the ridiculously unclear meaning, preferably before I put an eye patch on you and call you Lady Fury."

She barely contained the roll of her own eyes before twisting the cap back off her water and sipping almost daintily at it again just to perturb the billionaire further, and then she arched an eyebrow up just slightly before giving a more candid response, "I was experimented on by the KGB a long time ago and those experiments gave me certain abilities. I can persuade just about anyone into doing what I need them to do."

Bruce's brow was ruffled at that, "That sounds less like persuasion and a lot more like compulsion."

"I suppose to some it may," she admitted as she took another sip of the water, "but there's a fine line between getting someone to think on my level and forcing them to do it. I can't force it, the person I use it on has to be of an open mind."

"Not to call you a liar, though you _are_ technically a liar by your own job description, but Bruce's jolly green giant doesn't really strike me as the 'open minded' type," Tony piped up. She could see Bruce sigh at the comment but he gestured to Tony with a wave of his hand, clearly showing he held the same thoughts, likely about both herself and his other half.

Natasha wasn't the least bit offended or wounded by the comment about her and she answered again without bothering to use her usual runabout of the topic, "Well _he_ isn't but Doctor Banner is. It stood to reason that if your verdant little split personality is lurking when you're out to play, you're very likely lurking when he's out to smash."

Bruce's brow ruffled in an instant at her explanation, "You staked an awful lot on faith, Agent Romanoff."

"Well as we just learned, persuasion is often more effective than brute force," she stated, the air of indifference still radiating off of her. Before either of them could respond to that she hopped off the desk with grace and ease and moved closer as she spoke, "Look, I don't share what I can do lightly and I certainly don't use it lightly. It's not exactly a part of me that I embrace given what it was so clearly intended to be used for."

There was no doubt in her mind that Tony had read her file, though she remained unsure of whether Bruce had ever bothered and given that Tony gave a small sideways nod of acknowledgment towards her words, she at least knew she was right about the billionaire. His response was less than expected, "Right, well...alright." She actually quirked an eyebrow up at Tony's slightly respectful acceptance of her answer, but of course he ruined it within thirty seconds, "What other super powers did they give you?"

"Tony, leave her alone," Bruce finally interrupted, "she saved all of your collective asses in Siberia, so if she wants to tell us then she will and if not—well then it's not really any of our business."

"I make everything my business, have you learned nothing living here for the last two years?" Tony questioned with an over-exaggerated sigh, "but fine. I'll accept your very _loose_ answer of all this for now, Romanoff, but you better not go _persuading_ me to walk around in my underwear for your own personal pleasure."

Bruce saved her from making the retort herself, "I hardly think that would require her particular skill set and honestly you'd probably enjoy it a lot more than she would."

Natasha barely held back the laugh that threatened to escape. She didn't spend enough time with Bruce to realize he could actually be funny but she was at least mildly pleased to realize he wasn't a complete stick-in-the-mud, though she supposed anyone who spent enough time with Tony Stark could hardly be one.

"Sir, Miss Potts is requesting your presence in the bedroom."

"Lady and not-so-Gentlegiant, I clearly have better things to do," Tony informed them with a grin.

"Actually, sir, Miss Potts is leaving in five minutes and wished to at least say good-bye before she was away for several days."

Natasha actually chuckled at that and she could see amusement in Bruce's eyes when Tony cleared his throat and stated, "So I have very _quick_ things to do, toodles!"

And he was _gone_. She arched an eyebrow up as the man pulled an instant Houdini with the fastest beeline to an elevator she had ever seen in the history of beelines. "I didn't know that man could move that fast in a tailored suit rather than a metal one," she deadpanned.

Bruce's laugh was small but genuine at her comment. Slowly his amusement turned to one of appreciation and she watched and waited for what she knew was coming. And then he said it, "I really am grateful for what you did...both times."

She gave the barest shake of her head in the most impassive of ways, like it was of no real importance, and she gave a simple reply, "Not a problem."

"You act like it was the most insignificant thing in the world but it wasn't..."

"No offense, Banner but I didn't do what I did for you," Natasha informed him with complete candor, "I did that so that my best friend wouldn't become a blood spatter on the ground."

She could see him mull that over before he asked his question, "And the second time?"

"Common courtesy, you were in pain," she stated matter-of-factly.

She could see Bruce's brow wrinkle again at her words and he looked almost frustrated before he spoke again, "Is using your...power of persuasion—is that the reason you slept the entire trip back?" Natasha actually found herself caught off guard by the question and her small pause was enough for him to put it together. "It is. So using it drains you?" he asked next.

Natasha supposed she might as well answer with a certain level of honesty, "Yes, though in my defense the Big Guy wasn't exactly the easiest persuasion I've ever done."

"So...you persuade with touch?" Bruce questioned next.

She figured it was the scientist in him that couldn't help but ask so many questions and she gave a nod to answer that.

"I...felt it. It was um—it was warm, I guess is the right word. Or comforting..." he admitted.

That actually surprised her just a little but she didn't typically stick around and ask people how her 'touch' made them feel, though she doubted everyone held it in that same esteem, "I suppose that feeling might depend on my intentions during the persuasion but given that you're the first person to give a verbal opinion, I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Well...thanks all the same," Bruce offered up with a small smile. And then he asked the question that she knew had to be coming, "But...you didn't touch the Other Guy when he, you know, decided _not_ to swat you like a fly. Why did he stop?"

Natasha went with honesty again, "The same reason he hesitated to smear the wall with me on the Helicarrier. If I maintain eye contact long enough I can exude a certain...calm. It disarms people, makes me seem nonthreatening."

He actually looked impressed, "That's actually pretty amazing, you know that, right?"

"Let me guess, this is the part where you tell me it's a 'gift', right?" Natasha questioned with a bit of snark to her voice, "because it's not."

Bruce released a small sigh at her comment but he didn't attempt to make her believe otherwise. "Look, I don't know a whole lot about you Natasha, just whatever people say and frankly I don't tend to believe idle gossip. You did say you started...young, so I'm guessing that wasn't exactly a choice you made—"

"I don't care if you want to sit around and make assumptions about my past and you can feel free to do it with Stark or when I'm not around," Natasha informed him indifferently, "but just don't try to play me as the victim in whatever tragic little back story that your mind has concocted."

He looked like he wanted to disagree which made her wonder just how much he really knew about her past, but he seemed to think better of it as he pursed his lips closed. Bruce released a sigh and ran his fingertips through his hair. "You are okay, aren't you?" he asked.

The question threw her off and Natasha narrowed her eyes at him as she studied him. She was trying to decipher some hidden motive behind him asking until she remembered he actually was a decent human being and decent human beings made sure other people were okay. "I'm fine," she answered before making her way towards the door to the lab. That didn't work out well for her and the entire room spun for just a second, long enough that her footwork faltered and she grasped the edge of the desk.

"Natasha..."

"I'm fine," she insisted again, "I just need to sleep."

Bruce's worried eyes were locked onto her back and she could feel it. His words came through before she could fully escape, "You just slept for ten hours..."

"Look, I don't pretend to understand what you go through as the Other Guy so don't presume to think you understand what my power does to me," Natasha warned him. "I'll do what I need to help you after fights but we don't need to be friends and I don't need you to worry about me," she told him as she moved towards the door again.

"I don't think it's a good idea—"

Natasha chuckled, stopping just inside the doorway and not looking back. "I wasn't asking for your permission, Doctor," she informed him politely before she left the lab completely.

* * *

 **See you guys in the next chapter for some Bruce insight.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Glad to see you guys are interested in the story! Here you go.**

 **Chapter 2** :

" _The truth is never pure and rarely simple."_

Bruce wasn't entirely sure what to do with his new found situation. Natasha Romanoff most certainly had more secrets than just the ones she had shared a week prior in Siberia and directly after it. She was leaving out details, ones he imagined she deemed as 'need to know'. He also figured that she didn't see him as someone who needed to know.

The woman was a mystery even after two years, not that she had been around very often prior to HYDRA's outing for him to actually make an attempt. Sure, she had a room in the tower since the team had been assembled but it had been a rare occasion when she was around to actually use it until now.

Truth be told he found her utterly fascinating. Sure, he knew what people actually dared to talk about when it concerned the redheaded spy and assassin but he liked his own privacy and he didn't dare intrude upon hers despite the fact that she had sent her life out to the public a few months prior, though given recent events, he sincerely doubted those files contained _everything_. He knew what she did was an act to help Steve Rogers save millions of live; it most certainly was not a statement that she wanted her teammates to know every single detail of her life.

Of course to say he found her fascinating wasn't to say he liked her either. He didn't know her as she had so recently proven and she didn't exactly go out of her way to know him—except when he thought on it, she likely knew most of what there was to know. He doubted when SHIELD sent her to retrieve him two years ago that she went in blind and hoped for the best. It was probably better to say she didn't really attempt to know him on a personal level, although he also supposed she didn't go out of her way to know anyone on the team personally, none sans her partner.

Regardless of either of their delinquencies in the socializing aspect, a week prior was the only time he had truly seen Natasha act coldly and that was only after he had made the hazardous choice to point out her rather flawed excuse of 'just needing to sleep'. If she wasn't already terrifying in an apathetic sort of way then Bruce could at least find her terrifying in that she could stop his other half with a single look or touch. Honestly he found her to be a little bit scary in both of those aspects.

Power of persuasion or not, the resident spy must have cared more than she seemed to show or admit otherwise he didn't imagine anyone in their right mind would call out to The Hulk let alone stand in his path and believe they could make him stop. Not that he considered that feat to be her showing of her true colors, it was in the very act afterwords that he found she wasn't quite so unfeeling. She most definitely had no reason to help Bruce himself after the deHulking unless on some level she had been bothered by his pain. Tony even said she had done nothing when Steve was batted aside, nothing when Tony was hit; she only came out of the woodwork when Clint was in the line of fire.

Bruce didn't take that the way Tony did, that she hadn't seen he and Steve as being worth outing her abilities, and he was sure Steve didn't either. Bruce was at least seventy-five percent certain she would have acted sooner if Steve weren't genetically superior to the entirety of the human race or if Tony hadn't been wearing a full suit of armor to protect him from a Hulk attack. Clint on the other hand had no armor, only a bow and arrow. He had no line of defense against The Hulk—though in hindsight it turned out he did have _one_ line of defense. The archer had Natasha herself.

Now that he thought about it more, Bruce realized he hadn't seen hide nor hair of their resident spy since a week ago, not even in passing. It wasn't to say it was impossible to not see her because the tower was huge, but it was rather improbable given that only the top floors of the building were implemented for the team. Typically if she were present then he at least ran across her once or twice a day; although he admitted that at least a few times a week it tended to be the late hours of the night—or earlier hours of the morning depending on who you asked.

"Yoo-hoo," Tony hollered.

A moment later Bruce felt the tiny _smack_ of a tiny object hit him in the head and he quirked an eyebrow up at his best friend in both amusement and annoyance. The billionaire was quite honestly the only person in the entire world that he imagined had enough balls to zap and throw objects at a man that could lose control and turn into an actual raging monster. It was also refreshing on more than a few levels if he were completely honest with himself. He had managed to scare every single person in his life _except_ for Tony, even Natasha upon their first meeting had drawn a gun on him when he'd made her nervous and he had a feeling she wasn't someone easily unnerved.

"Hey, I've been doing some light reading," Tony informed him now that Bruce had given him the attention he seeked, "thought you might want to take a look at this."

He glanced over as Tony pushed his hands against the screen in front of him, pushed them out from each other, and the screen grew to the size of a theater screen. He couldn't help his next comment, "Those are pictures, Tony. There's not even any reading involved."

"Well, not for this part," Tony replied with a shrug.

"Alright, you got me," Bruce informed him with a sigh as he sat back in his chair and studied the pictures more fully now. "Why are we looking at..." he paused as he took in the images with more detail. "Do those beds all have handcuffs on the posts?" and he was almost afraid of the answer.

Tony nodded, "Twisted, eh? I went into those SHIELD files on Red Room and found this. That's where our sultry little assassin grew up."

Bruce was more than a little mortified on behalf of his friend, or perhaps _because_ of his friend, possibly even both combined. "Are you insane, Tony? Turn that off," he told him as he rubbed at his eyes.

"No need," came Natasha's voice. She sounded as impassive as she always did, seemingly uncaring that Tony was digging through her past—and he figured perhaps she really didn't care considering _all_ of the truth wasn't actually within those files given recent revelations. Bruce glanced behind them and followed her with his eyes as she stepped up to the large picture, then she tapped her finger to one bed in particular before making one rather disturbing statement in that emotionally detached tone, "That one was mine."

Even Tony looked a little green at the gills after that one.

"What's the matter?" Natasha questioned and Bruce had to admit that she was far too good at remaining emotionally distant to everything, she truly sounded baffled by their reactions. Bruce watched as she perched herself on a desk, crossed on leg over the other, and proceeded to push aside image after image. "Don't feel the need to be shy now that I'm in the room, Stark," she told him, "you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet."

"Romano—"

"If you wanted to know how they made me all you had to do was ask," she explained as her hand came to a stop. She tapped her finger on the screen and Bruce was almost afraid to look, and yet he looked anyways much like the way one would look at a train wreck. "They were trying to create the next Steve Rogers, their own version of the great Captain America, not that anybody in their right mind would believe their intentions were all sunshine and rainbows," she explained, "you don't exactly get another Steve when you've only trained them how to kill and spy. You definitely don't get results like that when there's nothing at all inherently good inside of your test subjects."

Bruce grimaced a little. The wooden chair, the steel cuffs around the wrists, ankles and head of the chair—all of that was bad enough to see when he thought of people being put into that contraption, even worse was when he thought about the fact that it was children forced to endure it. To make the imagery worse, all of the devices nearby it were covered in brownish-red crust and if he didn't know any better then he might have mistaken it for rust.

It didn't leave a lot of questions, though it also didn't give too many answers at the exact same time. It was a quality that he was sure most SHIELD agents had but it was also something he only noticed two of them truly excel at; Nick Fury and Natasha herself. He wouldn't be surprised if Clint was as good at it as they were but the archer was much more friendly and open than either of the other two—that was one of those things in the dynamic between the two partners that he found rather interesting.

"More than a dozen girls died in that room to be who I became," Natasha stated indifferently, "I can name them for you if you'd like." She pushed her hand upward and the images disappeared as she stood up and tapped Tony on the side of the face in a twistedly playful manner given the topic at hand. The billionaire looked a little unsettled by it all. "Let me know if you want any more details," she offered up with a dry smile, "I've got plenty of firsthand experience on the subject."

Bruce sighed a little at the entire thing. He supposed there were about two likely different reasons she had come to the lab. Either A.) she had wanted something or B.) she had gotten an alert that someone was poking their nose where it didn't belong. He imagined it was the latter rather than the former.

Though Natasha proved him wrong after a minute and a half of silence when she looked over at Bruce himself next, "Since show and tell seems to be over, I was hoping I could talk to you."

He ruffled his brow a little when Natasha headed towards the elevator without actually waiting for a response. He figured it was probably best to let Tony get that one out of his head anyways so he stood up and followed after Natasha down the hallway. She was holding the elevator door open when he got there as if she'd actually expected him to follow without ever having asked him to. While he found her mannerism more than a little quirky and irksome, he was _just_ curious enough by her semi-request of a talk that he got onto the elevator with her regardless.

"That really wasn't necessary," Bruce told her as the elevator doors closed, "he would have stopped on his own once he realized the truth behind what he was looking at."

Natasha shifted her head a little and looked at him before she shrugged, "He wanted to dig into what they did to me? I showed him."

"But you didn't, not really," Bruce pointed out, "you showed him something that would give him pause and probably bother the crap out of him for a little while—something that may possibly stop him from digging further, but you didn't exactly give an answer either."

She inclined her head to the side a little and Bruce watched as she pulled the emergency stop button to the elevator before she turned to fully face him. "You really want the truth, Doc?" she asked him. "The truth is that they gave up on that experiment before they ever got far enough down the line of kids to do it to me. The truth was that when they did give it to me, they did it with the intention of killing me," she informed him.

Even then her voice never changed an octave and Bruce was stunned as he stared at her. It only left one question that his mind could actually signal to his mouth to release, "Why would they purposely try to kill you?"

To be honest, he wasn't really expecting her to answer and when she did he couldn't understand how it was she could sound like she didn't care, "For the same reason someone would get rid of their toaster or vacuum. I was a defective machine."

The fact that she herself was equating the importance of her life to the same level of significance one might hold for a household appliance was downright bleak and grim. "Exactly how much mental and physical conditioning does it take to make a person think their life is equivalent to the importance of a freaking toaster?"

She actually looked like she found the question a little humorous, of course he realized why when she responded to it, "That's probably the nicest way I've seen somebody word a question about brainwashing and torture."

Bruce sighed, "And that sounds like you're avoiding the question, just like you avoided telling Tony what he wanted to know back in the lab."

Natasha shrugged a little and though she gave him an answer, it was still deflecting the question he actually asked, "I don't say it like that because I actually regard myself as something as useless as a toaster, Doc, I say it because it's what about ninety percent of anyone who's met me actually does think. It's certainly what the KGB thought until I survived the death sentence."

Humor probably wasn't the most appropriate response to it, though more often than not Bruce found himself floundering out a bad joke when he was uncomfortable; this was definitely one of those moments. "Well not me," he assured her. It was the fact she didn't seem to care one way or the other that made the unfortunate joke come out of his mouth, "You're at least as important as a tea kettle."

"A...tea kettle?" and Bruce was fairly certainly that the fact her voice was somewhere between 'about to laugh' and 'utterly baffled'—Natasha had actually given him a genuine reaction that _wasn't_ veiled behind a mask for one of the first times.

He felt the need to clear his throat and then clear up the joke as well, "I uh—that was really a terrible thing to say." He scratched at his head for a moment and blew out a sigh before he tried to explain, "It's uh—it's because I actually really do like tea so you know...the kettle is sort of important for that."

It was also the first time he could see her trying to fight back a smile and she wasn't completely succeeding at it. Of course her next question threw him off equally as much as he had thrown himself off kilter, "So you're saying I'm... 'sort of' important."

"Oh God..." Bruce mumbled out in horror, "that's really not what I meant...you're just as important as anyone else here."

She raised one eyebrow up as she folded her arms and leaned back against the wall. "I think I'm now more offended at being equated to Stark than I am the tea kettle," she informed him dryly.

He could have face-palmed then and there. "I just—l wasn't trying to offend you at all," he paused for a second when her lips curved into the tiniest little smile, "and you're just completely messing with me..."

Natasha gave a breathy little chuckle before she inclined her head to show he was correct. "Relax, Doc. It actually was a little funny," she told him and he actually believed her when she said it, although the next part he definitely believed, "except for the part about Stark, that part I meant."

Bruce couldn't quite resist the little laugh he released before he replied to her, "Somehow I'm not surprised by that." And finally he dared to ask the question, something he actually regretted considering it was their first generally friendly conversation, "What did you do that was so bad to them?"

She looked like she was debating how honest of an answer to give him but she shrugged before saying just about the only words he would have never expected, "I fell in love."

He frowned in an instant and he couldn't even come up with a reply. Instead it made him daringly ask a question he was afraid to know the answer of, "What happened...?"

And it was the first time in history that Natasha looked generally uncomfortable to him, and for an unknown reason he wouldn't understand for a little while longer, she actually answered again, "He's dead. An accident, so I was told."

'So I was told'. Suddenly her off-handed remark to Loki back on the Helicarrier, 'love is for children', made a _lot_ more sense.

"At the time I was just naive enough to believe it was true," Natasha admitted next with a wry little smile.

"Why are you actually telling me all of this?" he finally dared to ask, "because—well because I mostly was just expecting lies and—well frankly I think you actually answered all of that with the truth..."

Natasha's gaze was on him and he wasn't sure he had ever seen eyes as fierce as hers in his entire life. It was impressive how someone's eyes could be so empty yet so full all at the same time, a feat he imagined only Natasha herself could pull off. "Because I need a favor and typically people expect to know more about a person who's asking a favor of them," she answered—and Bruce actually believed she was being honest.

"You're not wrong," Bruce admitted as he folded his arms, "but that also doesn't mean you had to actually explain yourself to me."

"I don't feel the need to explain myself to anybody very often," Natasha assured him, "not Tony, not Capitol Hill and certainly not you. Like I said, I need a favor and normally I would be a lot less forthcoming about your interest in my past. Unfortunately this is important so I went with the faster option."

"Don't worry, I think both Tony and Capitol Hill got the kiss your ass message," Bruce assured her. He didn't know why he found her explanation for her honesty so amusing, though on some level also a little frustrating. She had decided to manipulate getting a favor by giving him the truth. "Suddenly I'm sort of feeling the message a little bit myself..." he admitted before he decided to break the newly reformed tension with another attempt at humor, "and we were getting along so well for a few minutes there..."

This time she didn't bother to fight back the smile and it was actually impressive to see her let a real one show for once; he had certainly seen the fake ones enough to see the difference between them in this very moment. As much as he wanted to actually hear more to her past love story, he also didn't have it in his heart to actually ask when he was fairly certain she had never truly wanted to talk about it in the first place.

"So what's this favor?" Bruce dared to ask her instead. The truth was that he had forgotten all about her saying she had needed to talk to him the moment she actually started giving him real answers. It was oddly quiet for a moment and he glanced back over at her.

There was the slightest change of expression on her face, one that he thought showed genuine surprise over his change of the subject back to its original purpose. She didn't linger on that emotion for long though before she simply rolled with the change. "An old acquaintance of mine requested my help and I have a sort of..." she paused for a brief moment while she seemed to consider her wording, "I suppose you could say I have a slight moral obligation to help her on the rare occasion she actually asks for it."

And that sparked his interest enough that he was already hooked. He didn't imagine there were a great many people that the redhead would feel she owed on that high of a level, which he assumed meant that whoever this woman was—she had done something for Natasha that meant a great deal to her. "Alright...you've definitely got me curious," he admitted.

"Unfortunately over the last week I realized that the stolen object she wanted me to retrieve back for her seems to be inside of a _very_ well-guarded research facility," Natasha explained next. And that explained why he hadn't once come across her. She hadn't actually been in the tower all week.

"I sincerely hope you're not asking me to use the Other Guy to trample through it," Bruce mentioned with a little bit of annoyance as he looked at her.

"Of course I'm not," she responded to it as though it were the most absurd idea she had ever heard, "I don't deny the label everyone has given me that I'm a little apathetic concerning most things but that doesn't mean I'm a complete ass, Banner."

Bruce thought 'a little apathetic' was sort of putting it mildly on most occasions before today, though _that_ was certainly an opinion he wasn't going to voice out loud. "I never said you were," he reminded her, "but I doubt you're trying to bring me along for my less than impressive good looks so if it's not my split personality you're after then I'm not sure I understand what good I'd be to you. I'm not very good at sneaking around."

She looked a little amused by that, though it was only the small crinkle around her eyes that gave it away, "I disagree on that last part but I'm also not expecting you to crawl through ducts in the building and try to creep around guards without being seen."

He had never been more confused in his life, "Then what exactly are you asking me to do here?"

"For a genius, Doc, you aren't very good at reading between the lines," Natasha informed him.

Bruce blew out a frustrated breath before he gave her a pointed look, "And you're not very good at buttering someone up when you're trying to ask them for some rather cryptic favor."

She gave him a slanted little smile before she stepped closer and he felt more than a little uncomfortable at the sudden lack of personal space between them. The look in her eyes told him she could practically eat him alive and shuddered out a breath when she chuckled, "Typically when I've 'buttered somebody up' in the past, it's because I was about to do something _very_ unpleasant to them."

Bruce swallowed a little dryly at her comment. She glanced him up and down almost as though she were debating the idea of 'buttering him up', and in hindsight he was really regretting his choice in wording.

Then she merely shrugged and stepped back, giving him back his much appreciated space. Apparently she decided her time was more important now than playing with her food, "Look, I'm not asking you to Hulk out, maim or kill anyone. I'm actually just asking you to be...you. A scientist. You play the scientist, I play the overly friend assistant that likes to wander. I get the stolen item back and nobody gets hurt."

"Oh..." and it was all he could really think to say at first. His brain finally caught up to reality after a few more seconds and while he actually felt his own moral obligation to help her out after she had saved him from a _lot_ of misery in Siberia, he couldn't help but wonder one thing—which he voiced out loud, "I'm not saying no but there are a lot of other ways I think you would normally go about something like this, so I'm just a little confused on why you're asking me instead of—well instead of just about anybody else."

Natasha just tilted her head a little to the side before she answered, "To be frank, a few months ago you would have been the last person I asked, though the last person on a rather short list."

And _that_ seemed a little uncalled for even if he wasn't actually surprised to hear it.

"Rogers is off on his lost soul mate search for Barnes until our next lead and Barton has his own thing he's dealing with right now," Natasha informed him, "and if I'm being honest I don't exactly have anyone else besides them when it comes to the other methods of infiltrating this place—or at least not anyone I would trust not to stab me in the back first chance they got, although admittedly I never really had very many I trusted not to do that before DC anyway."

Bruce couldn't help but grimace a little at the truth she gave him.

"You're the only option I have," Natasha finally informed him. "Tony's face is well known world-wide so he'd be useless. You couldn't hide that man in plain sight no matter how hard you tried but you on the other hand...I imagine you're quite good at being seen and unseen all at the same time."

"I used to think so until you proved me wrong by showing up in my house and decided to inform me otherwise," Bruce pointed out with a slight chuckle.

Again she showed that small sign that she was amused before she responded to him, "Doesn't mean you weren't good at it, we were just better." She gave the smallest of shrugs after that before she pulled out the button for the emergency stop and allowed the elevator to move again.

Bruce supposed it was at least a little flattering that she would actually ask _him_ of all people in the world to help her, he also knew it wasn't to say she trusted Bruce himself either—hell, she had said it herself. The only thing she was really trusting was that he wouldn't try to kill her if her back was turned. Even so it didn't help his indecision on what to actually do and he supposed he spent more timing debating it then Natasha was comfortable with.

The doors opened up to reveal the floor she typically resided on and she stepped through. She paused on the outside and put her hands in front of the sensor for just a moment, "It's fine, Banner. Forget I asked."

She pulled her hand away and turned around as though that were the end of the conversation. Bruce supposed that to her it actually was but it certainly wasn't for him. His conscience forced him to squeeze through the doors at the last second and come out the other side as he said her name, "Natasha."

This time her look of genuine surprise wasn't nearly as subtle as the previous time, in fact she looked a little perplexed at the sight of him. He supposed it could just be another act and that she _had_ expected him to come after her, but he had to admit he preferred the former idea much more.

"You're going to go even if I don't, aren't you?" Bruce finally asked her.

Natasha didn't deny it, she just gave the smallest nod of her head to indicate he was right. "It's something I have to do," she told him.

"And...nobody gets hurt?"

"I'm told it's apparently frowned upon to kill people when you're supposed to be the good guy," she deadpanned.

"What exactly did this person do for you that makes you feel like you need to risk your life for her over some stolen item?" he asked. He couldn't help the question although he felt just a little bad because she looked like she was getting a little fed up with answering him.

And the answer he got was more honest than he was expecting. "She reined me in. She pulled back from..." she paused in yet another explanation and for the second time in one conversation, he thought she seemed uncomfortable again, "let's just say she pulled me back from being something that I never thought I could come back from. So...I do owe her my life."

It was as raw of an answer as he supposed he would ever get and while he was curious, he let it go just as he had with the earlier conversation. "Alright, okay look, if— _if_ I'm going to help you, then I at least need to know what it is we're actually..." and he almost said stealing despite the fact it was apparently already stolen. Instead he just used Natasha's term, "Retrieving."

She was giving him a rather scrutinizing look, one that he didn't quite understand until she asked him her own question, "Are you agreeing to go with me because you actually want to help me or are you doing it because you feel obligated to after last week?"

Bruce supposed it was a fair question but he honestly didn't know which reason he was doing it for and he figured it was some mixture of both combined. He also supposed his mind telling him he had to help her was also a lot due to her honesty in that elevator. He didn't answer with either of those options though, instead he pulled a page out of her book, "Does it really matter?"

"I suppose it doesn't," she admitted with a slight chuckle of disbelief. It actually seemed like she was a little impressed that he gave her a rather aloof answer. After a beat she finally told him what it was she needed to get, "It's called The Eye of Agamotto."

He narrowed his eyes a little bit before he commented on it, "That's...an interesting name. So what makes this thing so important to...whoever your friend is?"

The redhead tilted her head to the side a little before she answered, "I don't think you're going to believe me even if I tell you."

"Try me."

"Legend of her people says it can control time," Natasha informed him nonchalantly.

That left him speechless for a good minute while he tried to decipher if she was joking or not. Just who exactly _were_ these people Natasha was referring to? Finally he came to the conclusion that she was serious and he felt his brow wrinkle as he asked another question, "And...do you actually believe it?"

"Not particularly," she answered with yet another shrug, "but the people who stole it seem to and to be honest after the shit we've seen; aliens, mythical demi-Gods being not so mythical, the Tesseract—hell, you and I are also pretty good examples; so I can't really sit here and say that a mystical object that controls time is impossible, can you?"

It was a valid point and he relented after a second, "I suppose not."

"And on the off chance it actually can do it then it probably wouldn't be wise to leave it in the hands of thieves," she tacked on for good measure. As if she hadn't already put the nail in his scientific curiosity when she said 'time control'.

"You really should have just led this whole conversation with 'mystical object that controls time'," Bruce informed her with a roll of his eyes, "but appealing to my good nature after was nice icing on the cake, appreciate that."

Natasha smirked, "I'll keep that in mind for future reference."

"So...when did you want to leave?" Bruce dared to ask.

"How soon can you be ready?"

It wasn't really what he expected but he hit the button for the elevator and let scientific curiosity answer for him, "I just need to grab my bag."

Amusement was painted on her face again and Bruce had to admit that despite how strange this was going to be, he was actually glad to realize that she wasn't quite so 'slightly apathetic' as she led people to believe. It was the first real conversation they'd had and while she wasn't exactly open with her expressions, and while a lot of her answers were quick with no detail, she didn't completely hide everything for once either.

"Are we stealing Tony's jet too?" he dared to ask as he stepped onto the elevator.

"Amusing as I find that idea, no. My car is in the garage," she told him with a chuckle, "and you can't steal an already stolen object, Doc. We're simply...reappropriating."

Bruce snorted out a laugh, "Is that what the kids are calling it now?"

Her smile seemed genuine yet again and he watched as she stuck her hand in the door way once more, "Just so you know, I might have actually brought you along just for your 'less than impressive' good looks if I hadn't already had a valid reason."

The joke was also a refreshing change of pace which made him chuckle and shake his head, even more so when she winked and let the doors close between them. Suddenly he was a little regretful he had never tried to seek her out before and actually talk to her, not that she had ever tried with him either. At first she had continued the facade but once they were _actually_ talking, he realized the truth wasn't quite so black and white when it came to Natasha.

Although he supposed that maybe she was only letting him see what she wanted him to see.

It was a little unsettling of a thought when he realized that perhaps what she wanted him to see—was what she thought _he_ wanted to see from her. She could have just started off that entire conversation with the object, she had to have known his scientific side would win on that; and yet she chose to hold onto that tidbit until the end.

The honest truth was, Bruce wasn't sure he would _ever_ know the truth when it came to Natasha's tactics, or even the truth to anything she would decide to do. The woman was an absolute enigma that both puzzled, annoyed _and_ intrigued him, even more so now than ever before.

* * *

 **Poor Bruce. He just has no idea what to think.  
**

 **And yes, it is the Eye of Agamotto from Dr. Strange but even if this story wasn't AU already, these events are prior to that addition in the MCU timeline anyways :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter for you guys :) glad you find the Infinity Stone story line interesting! I have plenty of curveballs planned for this story! And no lie, despite having a bunch of chapters pre-written, I sort of keep editing them which has been making it take longer to get out xD The Hulk has better self-control than I do.**

 **Chapter 3** :

" _If you stop caring, you're jaded  
but if you care too much, it'll ruin you."_

"Now where might you be going?"

Bruce actually jumped out of his skin a little as the elevator doors opened to his friend's curious question. He had a feeling Natasha wouldn't entirely approve if he told Tony the truth, but it wasn't as though he could lie to the man who gave him shelter—or rather, a home when he believed he would never find a place to call that again.

"You're not letting Romanoff make you feel a little twitchy, are you?" Tony questioned with an eyebrow quirked up.

"No," Bruce assured him with a chuckle.

Tony blew out an exaggerated breath, "Thank God." He watched as the billionaire scrutinized him, specifically when he locked onto the duffel in his hands, before Tony asked the more important question, "So, where you goin' then?"

"Uh..." Bruce swallowed dryly before he figured the truth was probably his best option, if only because Tony would likely _never_ believe it. "Natasha asked me to help her out," he admitted.

Tony raised both eyebrows suspiciously before he pried, "Help her out with what?"

"Something about a mystical object that controls time," Bruce answered without missing a beat, while at the same time giving his most nonchalant half-shrug he possibly could.

He could see the incredulous look that crossed Tony's expression regarding the comment. "You're screwing with me," the man finally mumbled before he laughed, "you had me good there, hell, for a minute I actually thought you were serious." His friend clamped a hand down on his shoulder before moving past him, "It's all good if you need a few days of solitude, Bruce...but work on your cover story for the next time."

"Noted," Bruce assured him. He couldn't quite help but chuckle as he stepped onto the elevator in Tony's stead.

"Don't forget to write!" the billionaire called over his shoulder as he gave a half wave without looking back. He heard the man mumbling in amusement, "Control time..."

Bruce released a sigh of relief as the elevator doors closed and he hit the button for the garage. Really, he should have noticed the difference in the air inside the elevator, but he didn't.

Not until Natasha spoke, "Well, you can't say you didn't _try_ to tell him the truth."

She sounded amused, and although Bruce was surprised to know she was actually inside the elevator the entire time, he didn't find himself jumping in reaction to it much like he had with Tony just prior. He didn't even know how he hadn't noticed her when he stepped on, or why Tony hadn't bothered to mention it, though the latter he chalked up to his friend being his usual self. Tony probably thought it was funny that he 'made up' a story about Natasha asking for his help while she was _right_ there. "I figured he wasn't going to believe it, but if I lied then he _would_ know something was up," he admitted as he glanced back to find the redhead perched against the railing on the elevator walls.

She smirked, "Well played, Doc."

He followed her off the elevator when it stopped at the garage, then he raised both eyebrows up as she opened the passenger door of a black corvette, motioning for him to get in.

Bruce couldn't quite resist the joke, "And they say chivalry is dead."

Apparently Natasha found it at least mildly entertaining because one corner of her mouth turned upward in a sideways little smile.

He tossed his bag over the front seat and into the back, right beside her own duffel, before he placed a hand on top of the small car and eyed her curiously. "So where we're going is within driving distance?" he wondered out loud.

Natasha leaned forward on the door, her arms crossed over top of it as she chuckled. "I suppose you could say that," she told him rather cryptically. He was a little annoyed by her lack of detail, but when she stood up straighter her next comment made the feeling dissipate in a near instant, "I really do appreciate you helping me out."

"Sure," he agreed as he climbed into the passenger's seat. He pulled the door closed as she went around to the opposite side. He leaned over and pushed Natasha's door open for her just as she rounded the front of the car, unable to resist the playful grin.

Natasha leaned down and looked almost endearingly close to laughing once she saw his face. "That's incredibly dorky, Doc," she told him, humor lining her words before she lithely slid into the driver's seat, "but thanks all the same."

The redhead pulled out of the garage rather spectacularly and Bruce found himself wondering, not for the first time, if there was anything she _didn't_ know how to do: Spying, hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, piloting and rather impressive driving skills. It seemed she wasn't adhering to the typical 'jack of all trades, master of none' label. No, Natasha was masterful at nearly everything that she did—and she knew it.

They drove in comfortable silence for a good twenty minutes before Natasha spoke up, "So what exactly are you expecting to get out of helping me?"

He couldn't help but blink a plethora of times as he glanced over at her. "I thought you agreed that why I was doing it didn't matter," he reminded her.

"A favor?" she asked, ignoring his comment, and Bruce felt his brow wrinkle as frustration niggled it's way back to the surface, "or the satisfaction of returning a favor?"

"Do you really have such a jaded view on the world that you don't believe someone would help you just for the sake of helping you?" he dared to ask her.

"It's not being jaded when it's true about ninety percent of the population," she informed him with the barest semblance of a shrug. She glanced over at him and eyed him skeptically before she released the tiniest puff of air he equated with a sigh. "Alright," she finally agreed, "so maybe life has made me a little cynical, that doesn't change the truth."

Bruce might have said something about that if it hadn't been for earlier. If he hadn't seen with his own two eyes where she grew up; the handcuffs on the bedposts, beds that were sized for _children_. He figured she had probably been given plenty of reasons to not want to allow herself the chance to be disillusioned by people, and he forced himself to accept it for what it was, because even he had to admit that he believed most people had ulterior motives for a lot of things they did.

Natasha's next question interrupted his thoughts, "So what makes you so different from everyone else, Doc?"

"Is that really a question you need to be asking?" and it came out before he could stop himself, though he couldn't resist tacking on a wry little smile as he looked over at her.

Bruce supposed he knew she wasn't talking about The Hulk but she smiled at his comment regardless, seemingly amused by his response. "What I mean is, everybody wants something and yet you don't seem to want anything at all—least of all from me. Why is that?" she asked next.

He answered her question with a question, a tactic he was sure would annoy her just a little—though he realized too late he was putting his own foot in his mouth instead, "And what is it that everyone seems to want from you, Natasha?"

The way her eyes glanced down him, then back up, not to mention the alarmingly seductive little smile she gave him—he fidgeted in an instant. Her answer was mocking, sultry and yet probably honest all at the same time as her eyes shifted back to the road, "Is _that_ really a question you need to ask?"

He swallowed dryly, "I suppose not..."

Natasha chuckled at this response and he was surprised to realize she was actually toying with him in that moment. He hadn't really expected her to be that way around him, though it would seem she was just full of surprises in the last few hours. Finally he shrugged it off, shaking his head and chuckling a little himself. "Well, maybe I was just looking to...extend an olive branch, so to speak."

"An olive branch?"

"Yeah, you know—" Bruce paused and then sighed before he let it go, "...never mind."

She merely inclined her head a little. He imagined she understood that he had been trying to tell her that he was helping as an extension of friendship. He also figured she wasn't all that interested given the way she pretended not to understand what he meant. There was also the small fact that a week ago she had literally told him they didn't need to be friends.

And it was just two minutes later when Natasha pulled the car to a stop at the curb, the ease and velocity with which she parallel parked the vehicle between two other cars being a feat all on it's own.

"Grab your bag," she told him as she opened her door and leaned into the back seat for her own.

Bruce was more than a little confused but he grabbed his bag as he pushed his own door open. "This may be a stupid question to you...but why do we need our bags? Are we switching cars?" he dared to ask.

Natasha chuckled yet again as she met him on the sidewalk, bag slung over her shoulder, then she gave him the most interesting reply, "Not exactly, but relax, you're gonna love it, Doc." She gave him a playful wink as she went up the steps towards one of the buildings, and then she proceeded to fascinate him further with her next choice of words, "They've got much cooler toys than SHIELD ever did, even better than Stark too."

"Don't ever let him hear you say that," Bruce told her with a small laugh, "he'll take it as a challenge."

Natasha just gave him an almost cheeky little smile over her shoulder as she gave three evenly spaced out knocks on the door, waited about thirty seconds, then knocked twice more. "Oh, he wouldn't stand a chance," she told him, and considering how certain she sounded, Bruce found himself believing her.

The door opened and Bruce watched as Natasha turned to the deep voice that greeted her, "Natasha, I'm very glad to see you return."

"Of course, Master Drumm."

Bruce quirked an eyebrow up when Natasha bowed her head just slightly, a sign of respect to go along with the title she used when greeting the man. It was as unexpected as her admittance earlier had been, that she felt deeply indebted to whoever this woman was that had asked for this favor.

"How many times must I tell you to leave out the titles?" the man questioned in amusement as he stepped aside to allow them entry.

"I just do it because it irks you, Drumm," Natasha assured him with a pat on the chest.

Drumm laughed at her comment and Bruce was yet again surprised. The only person Natasha typically bantered with ease with was Clint, and occasionally Steve, but usually not with anybody else.

"You must be Doctor Bruce Banner, it's a pleasure," Drumm greeted him as he closed the main door, holding out his hand to shake, "welcome to the New York Sanctum, and accept my apologies for it not being very seemly, I don't often have guests."

Bruce raised his eyebrows up at the man's choice of a name for his abode before he shook his hand and returned his greeting, "Uh, thanks...Master Drumm."

"Daniel is fine," the man assured him, "or if you prefer to be more impersonal like Natasha here, then Drumm is fine as well."

Bruce was definitely glad to hear he had other options than the title. He was also a little unnerved by the fact that Natasha was sauntering her way up the large set of stairs just ahead, leaving him alone with the 'Master'.

"Natasha spoke very highly of you," Drumm informed him.

Bruce jerked his attention back to the man, more than a little surprised by his words. He frowned a little and knitted his brows as he replied to Drumm, "She did?"

The man bowed his head a little as he gestured Bruce towards the stairs as well. "She would not give a compliment where one was not deserved," the other man assured him, "and I am aware she would use honeyed words on her enemies to lure them in, however she would not simply be commending of someone, at least not without good reason."

Bruce eyed her at the top of the stairs as she leaned against the wall in wait, then he glanced back at Drumm before he dared to reply, "I...appreciate you telling me."

"I figured I should given that she most certainly won't tell you so herself," Drumm informed with with a chuckle. "She has a warmth inside of her, one she hides quite well..." the other man told him next.

Bruce already knew that, he had felt it over a week ago when she had touched him. She had used her abilities to calm him and he had felt an abundance of warmth, of caring and of comfort; all things that he would have never associated with her before that moment. She was waiting with an air of uncaring as she leaned against the wall upstairs, at least until she turned her head and met his gaze, offering him the smallest upturn of smiles.

"I'm aware..." he assured Drumm. Bruce had to admit he was also aware that she was one of the most complex human beings he had ever met, and given what he turned into himself, that was a rather impressive statement for him to make about someone.

The other man was studying him now, his curiosity obvious before he inclined his head slightly and responded with a single word of wonder, "Interesting."

Bruce almost wanted to question him further, except it felt like betraying whatever amount of trust that Natasha was giving him for the time being, so instead he left it alone as they met up with her. He opened his mouth to speak when two daggers floated in the display case beside Natasha, tapping the glass in her direction as if they were seeking her attention—which was ridiculous because they were _daggers—_ and daggers most certainly didn't float, and they certainly didn't seek attention.

The redhead turned and gazed at them.

Drumm breathed out a small laugh, "The Daggers of Daveroth have always been a fan of yours, Natasha."

"You know I don't play with relics," she replied as she gave a little tap on the glass in return, along with a small shake of her head, before she turned to Bruce himself and winked, "unless they're star spangled in red, white and blue."

Bruce might have laughed at her joke any other time, but instead he found himself staring, his mouth slightly agape as the two daggers, with little Buddha looking heads on the hilts, aimed downward in what seemed like dejection before they returned to their place on the stand within the glass case. "What—I mean...how...?" he was mumbling the words far too quiet for either of the two to pay any him any mind.

"You don't choose a relic, the relic chooses you," the other man told her in what seemed like a reminder.

Bruce watched as Drumm and Natasha headed down the hallway, then he peered closer through the glass at the two daggers. He tapped the glass, half expecting them to fly up or perhaps even try to maim him, and yet they didn't so much as tremor on their stand. It was strange—beyond strange if he was being honest.

He shook his head a little in disbelief before he continued down the hallway. He had a million and one questions about this place, about Drumm, and about the daggers, but instead he listened to the quiet conversation between the two, hoping maybe _that_ would get him some answers.

"Things aren't particularly easy to steal from you guys, I should know," he heard Natasha tell Drumm, "and I don't tend to ask a lot of questions, but I can't help but wonder how it happened, and why exactly I seem to be necessary to deal with it when you have people for this sort of...issue."

A sigh came from Drumm before he answered her, "Kaecilius has...betrayed us. In all the chaos, the Eye was taken."

"Did he take it?" Natasha questioned.

"If he had then we wouldn't be asking for your help," Drumm assured her, "but as it stands, we are currently spread out in our attempt to stop Kaecilius and his...band of traitors, we could use an extra hand for this matter."

He could hear Natasha's interest despite her quip, "Well, it sounds to me like someone should be fired at the very least."

The man chuckled, "It was not The Librarian's fault."

Bruce watched with interest as she tapped Drumm on the cheek playfully before she replied, "Perhaps you need Masters in more than the Sanctums." She looked almost impish in her next words, "A Master Librarian, now there's a catchy job title."

Drumm released a laugh that sounded straight from the gut. "You truly are one of a kind," he informed her with a smile, "come visit more often, not just when business requires it."

Bruce watched her scoff before she replied, "Don't get sentimental on me, Drumm. You're only my favorite because you _aren't_ that type."

"Fine, fine," Drumm agreed with a smirk, "are you ready to go?"

And Bruce watched as Natasha shifted her gaze over to himself before she planted her eyes back on Drumm. "Of course," she told him.

Natasha came to stand by his own side now, and Bruce gave her a curious look when she smirked at him, then she gave a vocal reason behind it, "If you thought the daggers were interesting, wait til you see this one, Doc."

"What _is_ this place?" he finally dared to ask her, not having gotten any _real_ answers from listening to them talk.

Bruce didn't have to wait for an answer as Drumm put a two finger golden ring on one hand, held out that same hand, then spun the opposite hand in a circle. The orange sparks that were created accelerated his heart rate in seconds before Natasha's fingertips gently rested on his forearm.

He glanced at her wide-eyed before she spoke, "Relax."

It was a little hard to do that considering what was happening. It was only a second later that he felt that warmth again, that comfort. He glanced down at his arm, the warm orange glow surrounding his skin around her hand, then he dared to look up at her eyes—bright eyes that were a slightly glowing and brilliant green. He wasn't wrong, her touch truly was calming; proven in that moment by the way his heart rate slowed under it.

By the time he tore his eyes away from her to look back at Daniel Drumm, there was a large circular and fiery ring there, a moving image of mountains and foliage on the opposite side, lit up only by moonlight.

 _A portal_.

Or _maybe_ a portal. It could just be an illusion.

"Holy shit..." he mumbled. "What the hell is that?" he dared to ask, "is—is that a portal?"

"It is."

He could see Natasha's sideways little smile out of the corner of his eye, and he realized somewhere during it all she had released his arm, though the warmth still lingered as though she hadn't. When he turned to look at her again, her eyes were their normal shade of a multitude of greens.

"You know your eyes glow when you do that, right?" he questioned.

Her laugh was soft and quiet before she answered him, and Bruce figured he probably wasn't the first person to point out that little detail, "I'm aware."

Bruce watched her for any change like the last time she had used her ability on him, looked for any indicator that it had drained her. If it had then she was hiding it much better than she was last time, though he also supposed that was because last time she had been forced to calm down The Hulk himself. That probably took a lot more energy than a calming touch for just a minute.

The moment was lost when Drumm stepped forward and held out a ring to Natasha that was similar to the one on his hand. "Take it," the man told her.

"You know I'm no good with that thing," Natasha told him, not accepting of the ring held out to her.

Bruce was already circling the fiery sparks of the portal. He ignored whatever Natasha and Drumm were discussing now, instead Bruce was debating _what_ the portal was, even what it was made of. Now he had a lot more than a million and one questions, and he was at a loss of where to even start. Though even while he studied it, he could hear their conversation going on despite his efforts to tune them out, see bits of their interaction even though he wasn't actually watching them.

Drumm gave her a knowing look, "You could be, you simply choose not to be."

Bruce only turned his attention off the portal when Drumm gripped her wrist. Instinct put him on edge, but it seemed Natasha wasn't worried, and all Drumm did was drop the offending item he had offered into her palm. Bruce was surprised she allowed it to happen, he didn't imagine she took very kindly to people forcing things on her, though he was noticing a lot of unexpected things about her today.

After a beat Drumm spoke again, "In case of an emergency."

Natasha curled her fingers around the ring before she tucked it into her pocket, then she gave Drumm a more serious look for the first time since their arrival, a look that came with the verbal warning Bruce had expected two minutes earlier, "Don't ever do that again."

"I wouldn't have had to do it at all if you weren't so stubborn," Drumm informed her with a chuckle.

Bruce could only shake his head before he glanced back at the portal. The easier banter from just minutes ago between the spy and the 'Master' seemed to be gone now, along with any conversation between them at all, and with both of those distractions gone his curiosity over the portal was back at full steam.

"This is..." he murmured, holding his hand out and glancing around at the fiery waves of the portal ring around it, "...wow." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Natasha currently adorning a sideways little smile, a uniquely easy and tranquil one at that despite just seconds ago looking at Drumm almost murderously. If he weren't currently standing in front of something that shouldn't be a scientific possibility—specifically when it was erected from a _ring—_ then perhaps he could have focused on how inherently different Natasha had looked in that moment.

Instead he let scientific curiosity get the better of him, as per usual, and he remained focused on the portal. The question came out in an instant, "What is it even made of? I mean what sort of energy can even create something like this?"

He circled around it and yet it was unchanged, still as unfathomable and amazing, and he daringly pushed his hand through the portal, seeing it now on the opposite side. Even the temperature on the other side was alarmingly different than where he was standing now.

So many damned questions. He pulled his hand out from the portal and left it hovering over the fiery sparks as he grinned.

Natasha chuckled in the most charming way as she stepped up beside him again, a remarkable light to her usually fierce eyes as she gave him some answers, "It's made up of interdimensional energy, and harnessing that energy is also how it's made."

He couldn't quite help it as he threw out yet another barrage of questions, especially given that Natasha's full attention seemed to be on him now, "How is it even possible? It's—I mean it's completely different than the Tesseract was. And where does it go? I mean, can it go anywhere? Can it—"

"Whoa, Doc," Natasha's voice interrupted him, though he thought she sounded remarkably pleased by his inquiries despite her words. He watched her hand raise up to hover next to his own against the orangish-red waves before she eased it against the outline of the portal, "You can touch it. It looks like fire, but it's definitely not, it's just the residual energy that's used by the ring to stabilize the portal."

Bruce chuckled as he placed his hand against it beside hers. She was right, it was warm, but it certainly wasn't the fire that it appeared to be. After a moment he glanced at Natasha curiously. He never imagined she might be the one explaining scientific wonders to _him_. It wasn't to say he didn't believe she had the intelligence, because obviously she did, yet having knowledge of interdimensional energy, and stabilization of that same energy? That was a different sort of intelligence that he _hadn't_ expected.

Natasha was fascinating outside of the tower and outside of the team itself. Without the walls of the job, or of the team, and without the prying eyes of those who expected her to be her job rather than be the person behind the job, she was something else entirely. He also knew not a single member of their team had those expectations, but he doubted Natasha believed that herself. He also doubted he would ever see this side of her in more than fragmented pieces here and there, after all, it had taken over a year before he knew _this_ part of her even existed.

Waves of amber danced shadows over her face as she gave a few more answers, "It can go wherever the holder of the ring wants it to go, so long as they have the strength of mind to truly control that sort of power. You harness the energy, the ring controls and stabilizes it, and...well, you picture the place you want to go. Every detail, every perfection, and even every imperfection." She removed her hand and stepped to the side, just in front of the portal, "If you have the ability to harness that sort of power, then you can go anywhere."

Bruce released an impressed breath as the redhead stepped through the portal without a second thought. He stared in stunned amazement as she stood on the opposite side and looked back at him with a single quirked eyebrow, a wry little grin, and then she crooked a single finger at him as she gestured him to follow her.

"She's a hell of a woman, is she not?"

He turned his head and glanced at Drumm before he responded to that, "I think that's putting it mildly, even more mildly than usual after today..."

The other man laughed before his gaze turned more serious, his voice doing much the same, "You see what she wants you to see, Doctor Banner...as does the world." He gestured him to the portal now and Bruce stepped towards it while Drumm spoke again, "However I think you'll soon be able to see more than she wants you to."

Bruce had his doubts about that but he nodded his head to Drumm nonetheless. He stepped through the portal as well. He had to admit he was hesitant to do it. He had a bad feeling about whatever they were going to find on the other end of that portal, yet fascination and wonder, feelings that he couldn't quite resist, belayed his usual pessimism in favor of science.

* * *

Natasha watched as Bruce and Drumm spoke a few brief words before Bruce warily, yet excitedly at the same time, walked through the portal. Once he was on her side his eyes were wide, taking in the scenery almost as in depth as he had taken in the portal just a few minutes prior. It was nice to see him so in awe of something that didn't have a mainframe or a schematic, something that didn't involve science...or Tony Stark. She kept her eyes on him as he walked a few feet away and peered over the edge of the mountain's ledge.

She chuckled as Bruce whistled in appreciation before she took a few strides to stand beside him. It was a large expanse of brilliantly bright and verdant foliage even in the darkness, the skies practically a navy blue ocean above them. Directly below them she could see the thin crystal blue line of a river, only reflecting up towards them by moonlight, that ran for miles within an expanse of the foliage.

"This is..." Bruce spoke softly, staring out in sheer amazement and he huffed out a disbelieving breath before she felt his eyes on her, "this is probably one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in my life."

Natasha was a little surprised how effortless it was to smile at his comment and it made her unable to resist the quip she gave next, "You talking about me or the scenery, Doc?"

It worked because he turned an impressive shade of red from his neck, all the way up to his cheeks. "Is there really a right way to answer that question?" came his unexpected response.

The laugh that she released was easier than she would have thought too, something he had managed to do to her several times in several hours. "If there was then you're already past the moment where it was appropriate to give it," she told him as she inclined her head teasingly.

"I'll just plead the fifth," Bruce decided next, and she smirked at his decision, albeit a very smart choice at that. "So...dare I ask where we are?" came his next question as he veered the topic back on track.

"Shanghai."

The man nearly choked on the air he was breathing. "China?" he squeaked out, "you took me through a portal from New York to China?"

Natasha grinned in an instant, "I did, though I doubt you thought we were on the same side of the planet given the obvious time difference."

She saw him turn and look around for the portal, a portal that was now gone, and his eyes widened further, "Uh..."

"Relax," Natasha told him yet again, "there's a second Sanctum in Hong Kong."

"Natasha, that's almost 800 miles away," Bruce told her in sheer shock.

She couldn't help but laugh, _again_ , before giving him a little reassurance, "I'll be contacting the Master of the Hong Kong Sanctum when we're done. I'm not expecting you to make an 800 mile trek."

Bruce looked rather puzzled now and his question was one she honestly expected far earlier than when they were already through the portal, "I really didn't want to be rude before...but exactly _what_ are they Masters of?"

"The Mystic Arts."

Apparently Natasha had floored him with that comment given that he was now staring at her openly, unblinking. Finally he seemed to find his voice after a minute and his response was almost laughable, "You can say someone is a Master of the Mystic Arts, walk through a portal from New York City to Shanghai, fight aliens that came through an interdimensional breach in space...and you still think an object that controls time is improbable?"

"Yep," Natasha agreed with an almost imperceptible shrug.

"I turn into The Hulk and you persuade people with nothing more than a touch," Bruce reminded her with a suspicious gaze.

Natasha chuckled as she raised her hands up in mock-defense, "Hey, I gotta draw the line somewhere for the sake of my sanity. I've drawn it at time travel."

"And what if it _is_ real?" came his next question, and she supposed it was a rather fair one.

So she gave an honest answer to it, as honest as she could think of anyways, "I don't think the world is ready for that."

"I don't think we were ready for any of it," Bruce tacked on with a shake of his head, "but that doesn't exactly make any of what happened any less real."

"Maybe not," Natasha admitted as she glanced back out at the scenery, "but that also depends on who you ask." She couldn't help another small shrug, "Take you for example, or even me. Before your incident would you have believed someone could turn into a big green guy that has a penchant for smashing?" She slung her duffel over her shoulder as she turned and headed into the foliage behind them, continuing her words as she went, "Would you have believed that someone could look at you from across a room and calm you down a little? Touch you and persuade you to do something that somewhere in the back of your head, somewhere you didn't even think to look, you're only somewhat open to doing?"

Bruce was quiet behind her but she could hear his footsteps, light as they were, following behind her. She figured he was contemplating her words, trying to come up with a response, and she couldn't blame him for not being able to think of one right away.

"No one believes something will happen to them until it happens," she informed him as she continued on the short trek to her Shanghai hideway. It was one of her favorite places, one that she had never shared with anyone else, but given the importance of the mission it was an unfortunate necessity now. "I'm sure Rogers never believed he would be a national icon just as I doubt Barton ever thought he'd become a government agent with a penchant for a bow and arrow...well, maybe just the government agent part is what he doubted," she mentioned next with a chuckle. "I would say I doubt Stark ever thought he'd fly around in a tin can shooting lasers, but knowing him, he probably did," she tacked on, and she thought she heard Bruce quietly snort out a laugh.

"You're right," Bruce admitted after a beat, and she watched as he fell in line beside her on their walk. "I imagine the only part about it that surprised him was that it happened because someone attached a car battery to his chest..." he mumbled out.

Natasha couldn't quite hide the visible grimace she gave in response to it, not that Bruce was looking at her face to see it. "Exactly..." she agreed quietly, "bad things happen to people every day but they aren't real unless you're the one they're happening to."

"You believe a lot of them," came Bruce's reminder.

It wasn't as though her response would surprise him, and that was the only reason she actually said what she did next, "Like I said, seeing is believing."

She was right, it didn't surprise Bruce in the least and perhaps if he had sounded any other way than somber in his next question, if there had been a hint of pity or empathy in his tone, she might have ignored him. Instead it was more of an inquiry for himself given out loud, one he likely didn't expect an answer to, "How do you live with it?"

Natasha supposed it was working with Steve that made her actually dignify it with a response, and an honest one at that, "You don't."

 _Now_ she could feel Bruce's eyes on her.

"You survive," she told him next, "and surviving is a lot different than living, but you know that already."

"Yeah..." Bruce murmured out in agreement.

"We're here," Natasha informed him, nodding her head at the small temple-esque house on a small hilltop.

She could see his confusion as he looked at the place before he voiced his joking thought out loud, "It doesn't look like a Research Facility."

Natasha snickered as she shook her head, "It's not. It's my place." She saw him give her an uncertain look and she made her way up the stone steps towards the hideout. "I'm not just throwing you into the mission without a little pre-planning, and definitely not without giving you time to get the lay of the land, that's just bad business," she explained, giving him a small smile over her shoulder, "plus it's about two in the morning here."

"Suppose you're right," he admitted after a beat.

"Most of the time," she quipped as she placed her duffel down outside the wooden door and gave him a playful wink. He looked amused by it if anything, and she reached into a small zippered pouch at her waist, pulling out the lockpick, then jimmying it into the lock.

"I thought you said this was your place?" came his question, one that came out unexpectedly sardonic coming from Bruce.

Natasha grinned as she looked back at him, instead feeling for the click of the tumblers, "It is, but I lost the key at least a decade ago and what's the point in replacing a lock when—" _click_ , "this is just as simple?"

Bruce gave a huff of a laugh in response, "Most people don't consider that simple." She pushed the door open, holding it for him to go inside. "There's that chivalry again," he told her jokingly, only to up the ante by picking up her duffel as well and heading through the door, "what do you keep in this thing? Bricks?"

"An arsenal," she deadpanned.

"You know, I actually believe that," came his humored reply as he gave a quiet little laugh. He placed both their duffels side by side on a small chair and she let the door swing closed, watching as he turned to look at her. It was obvious by his uncertain expression he was about to ask her yet another question, and it was mildly dorky to see how flustered he got just before doing so, "Can I ask you something?"

Natasha tilted her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes before she answered him, "You can, but I suppose whether or not I answer depends on how personal a question it is."

"This must be a pre-SHIELD place," he offered up, "since I know you lost any SHIELD safe houses you had..."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow up slightly, and despite the fact she had a basic idea of where this was going, she still went along with it as though she didn't, "I'm waiting for the actual question."

"You couldn't have been more than eighteen...nineteen when you joined them?"

"Is that rhetorical or is that the question?" she asked, and she honestly wasn't sure which it was supposed to be.

"It's...an observation," Bruce told her hesitantly.

Natasha perched herself on the small marble table top, studying him as she crossed her arms, "I'm fairly certain we've already discussed my youth when I got into this business, in fact I believe it came up before you ever even asked me who I was."

"We did..."

"So what's the question then?" Natasha asked him, patiently waiting as she watched him from across the small room.

Bruce looked like he didn't entirely want to ask it anymore, though she supposed her responses had probably been the reasoning for that. The last thing she wanted to do was turn this into a rather uncomfortable trip, especially not over trivial matters that were public knowledge anyways.

She gave a small sigh before she stood up from her perch and gave him a softer look, "Just ask whatever it is you want to know so bad, it's fine."

"It's about what Tony pulled up from SHIELD, on Red Room..." Bruce mentioned next.

"Okay," Natasha replied, curiosity overtaking her usual preference for privacy, "you don't have to beat around the bush, Doc, whatever question you've got, I guarantee you're not the first person to ask it."

Bruce looked a little more relieved by that but he sighed and finally got on with it, "I happen to know a few things about how hard it is to kick habits, specifically ones drilled into you as a kid."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, though now she was questioning her guarantee on him not being the first person to ask a certain question.

He proved that thought to be correct when he finally asked it, "The uh...sleeping arrangements?"

There he was, trying to word things more nicely, so she stated her question a bit more obviously, "You mean the handcuffs?"

He nodded, "Yeah..."

It was the first time in quite a while that somebody brought up something that _nobody_ had ever done before.

"That really was too personal," Bruce mumbled out as he ran his fingertips through his already unruly hair in a show of discomfort, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even brought it up."

Natasha hadn't even realized how long she had stayed quiet until he said that. She bit the inside of her lower lip before she gave a silent sigh, then she gave the truth just a second later, "Don't be sorry, that's not why I didn't say anything else."

She could see Bruce looking at her in uncertainty yet again as he aired out his uneasy response, "Then why didn't you?"

"Because you actually managed to bring up something that nobody ever has," Natasha informed him, "and I take it you're wondering how long I slept like that?" When he nodded, she gave him a small smile and a tiny shrug before she made the next admittance, "I suppose I did it from the time I went into Red Room, and even for a little while after I was finally out."

"And how long was that?" Bruce asked her with a frown.

All things considered, Natasha had to admit to herself that the scientist was surprisingly easy to talk to, especially considering he had almost killed her on more than one occasion. Steve and Clint _were_ always clamoring for her to talk to someone, Laura too for that matter, and if she was going to convince him to let her help him with The Hulk, then she supposed opening up to him a little would probably go a long way towards doing just that.

"I don't know, from the time I was six until..." Natasha admitted before she thought of the best way to word it, "let's just say it was long enough that I'd be lying if I said I don't still think about doing it sometimes."

Bruce paused, froze was more like it, staring at her as though some mind-blowing revelation just came to pass before he looked almost mortified, "I'm sorry."

Natasha couldn't quite help her puzzled expression because she hadn't even said a word, nor had she made a face, to show she didn't want to talk about it—though the reality was that she truly didn't.

"I just..." Bruce sighed as he rubbed at his face in a haggard manner before haphazardly messing with his hair again, "just forget about it..."

For a moment she didn't understand his sudden decision to back off, then she realized what he seemed to in that moment. He had just been curious, and now he was afraid he was dredging up parts of her past that she had let go of. He wasn't wrong, but it was almost sweet that he was worried about it.

"It's fine," she assured him, "I mean you were right, you instill that sort of thing into someone long enough, especially a kid, and it's not easy for them to stop doing it."

Bruce merely nodded his head, though she could see in his eyes he did _want_ to know more, to ask more questions. It was somewhat nice that he was squelching his thirst for knowledge for the sake of her feelings.

That was the only reason she placated him even slightly, "I don't talk about it, and I'm not saying that just because it's you." She gave the tiniest of shrugs before she continued, "I don't talk about it to anyone, not even Barton—of course that's because I always made sure nobody caught me while I was still using those handcuffs to go to sleep."

"...then why _did_ you talk about it with me?" and he sounded utterly baffled by her admittance.

Natasha figured she might as well stick with the honesty policy with Bruce now. She had to admit one thing to herself, and out loud, both at the same time, "I hadn't thought about it in years. It's just easier to box it up somewhere in my head and forget about it all." She shook her head and gave a dry little chuckle before she gave him the truth, "And it all just sort of..."

"Piled back up after you came to the lab?" Bruce offered up quietly.

"I guess you could say that," she told him, "besides, like you said before—you get bad habits being drilled into you as a kid, and I already know yours."

He was looking at her curiously, "Do you?"

"I have a feeling you didn't like yourself much even before there was a meaner greener version of you popping out like a bad bender," she told him.

The impressive thing was that Bruce actually laughed, completely ignoring what she said first in favor of what she said last, "Did you just equate the Other Guy to a bender?"

"I've had a few," Natasha told him with a wink, "mine just haven't managed to bring down Harlem."

He looked a little mortified again.

"Yet," she finished with a cheeky little smile.

Now he chuckled and shook his head. "Well...you're right," he told her, "that's definitely one thing I learned to do young."

"At least I got that going for me, right?" she questioned, "it wasn't my parents doing it to me."

"Only one of mine," Bruce told her, "so...it could have been worse." He gave a sad little chuckle before she saw him look at her with a bit more uncertainty.

"Now what question do you have?" she asked with both eyebrows raised, "I'm going to start limiting the amount you're allowed to ask."

"What about your parents?"

Natasha was quiet for a moment as she mulled the question over, but she couldn't bring anything to the surface. Finally she gave the barest semblance of a shrug, "I have no idea."

"None?" he questioned with a frown.

She shook her head, "Not even their faces."

And yet again Bruce looked as though he wanted to ask something, something he was holding back from asking.

"Seriously, Banner?"

"I can't help it," he mumbled out almost shamefully, "you're actually holding a personal conversation with me, you can't blame me for being curious."

Natasha released a heavy breath before she waved him to continue, "Go ahead, might as well get it off your chest while I'm still in a talkative mood, because it won't last much longer."

"Did you ever...try to look for them?" came his question, "I mean I'm sure SHIELD, Hydra...or whatever they were, they could have figured out who they were."

She didn't doubt that for a second. "It's not for lack of curiosity," she told him, "the fact of the matter is, I'm nowhere even remotely close to what anyone would ever want walking into their life saying, 'I'm your long lost daughter'."

Bruce just looked like he understood and he gave a small nod. "You should talk more often, everyone needs to sometimes," he told her warily, "you're only human, Natasha..."

"That's debatable," she told him with a scoff.

Now he just looked somber as he replied to her, "Not to me."

Yet again he surprised her with a dorky and sweet response, but that was about all she could handle on airing out her emotions and her past. "How about instead we give you a look at something we can actually do something about," she suggested to him as she opened a drawer under the table, pulled out the taped together pieces of paper, unfolded them, and laid them out on the table.

Natasha heard Bruce's footsteps as he came over, curiosity over what she had on the table winning over his need to further the conversation. She also appreciated the fact he was willing to let that be the end of it, because although he _was_ easy to talk to, talking didn't make her feel at all better.

Once he was next to her she tapped the red circle on the paper as she spoke, "This is where we are."

"Did you draw this?"

Natasha rolled her eyes a little before she responded, "Legitimate maps are never completely accurate, and considering both this place and the facility we're going to aren't on real maps, I'd say that about proves the point." She tapped a spot a decent distance away from their location, marked with an 'X', "That's the research facility," she informed him next.

"How far away is it from here?" Bruce questioned.

"Twenty miles," she answered with a shrug.

She could see the wrinkle in his brow line now as his gaze turned back to her. "That's...quite the trek," he mumbled.

Natasha chuckled a little before inclining her heard. "I'm not expecting you to walk twenty miles," she assured him, "I have a ride not far from here, a few different ones in different locations actually."

"You are terrifyingly prepared for just about anything, aren't you?" Bruce asked her next, and she had to admit, she thought he sounded oddly impressed by it.

"I suppose I am," she agreed, "you don't stay alive very long in my line of work if you aren't."

She could see him grimace a little at her comment. He sighed a shortly before he stood up a little straighter, "I suppose there's not much scouting to do in the middle of the night."

"It's not really suggested for the first day, better to get your bearings during daylight as long as it's an option, which it is," she reminded him.

"Guess I can lay down for a bit then," he told her, "didn't sleep much last night."

Natasha felt her face soften a little at his words. She already knew he didn't sleep much _any_ night, she didn't either, hence why they tended to pass each other more frequently in the off hours. She gestured to one of the doorways, "Bedroom is through there."

"Uh...isn't that yours?"

She chuckled at the red creeping onto his face again, "It's not as though I left my panties out."

"I just meant—"

"I know what you meant," she assured him with an amused shake of her head, "but there's no need for you to take a nap on the couch if I'm awake."

He cleared his throat, "Right."

"Afraid I'll climb in with you if I start feeling a little adventurous?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow up playfully. His face turned redder and she couldn't resist teasing further, "Or afraid you'll like it if I do?"

"Oh good grief..." he mumbled out, turning around and heading through the door she had motioned him to before.

"Or are you afraid I _won't_ join you?" Natasha called out next.

She was met with nothing sans for silence.

Natasha grinned as she watched him try to hide in the room, "That wasn't a no, Doc!"

"Yes it was," he called back.

She laughed in an instant. "To which part?" she questioned.

He didn't answer and she smirked as she shook her head. If anything, at least this would be an entertaining mission during the off hours. Bruce was surprisingly easy and fun to mess with.

* * *

 **There you have it. After many edits and add-ons in conversation between the two, finally got it to a place I liked. [Which has practically doubled the length of the original chapter. Whoops?]  
**


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